It didn’t hit me until yesterday

Shotgun in mom’s Toyota, coming back. 

Back then, three feet tall, the acre was the whole earth;

Mom slows down at the sign: 4 acres for sale – sold fast.

 

Traveling far enough, 

Even if it’s only for a few months,

You don’t realize how much things change.

One acre –  a mere small parking lot. 

 

I quite honestly felt as if I had stopped time within that moment-

Ironic I suppose.

It really struck me how small an acre actually is.

And the everchanging surrounding of time.

 

My grandparents’ house was always a fun time-

Never grandparents, always ‘Papa’ and ‘Nana’.

We were over there quite often.

 

They had a large, lively deck that always seemed to be buzzing.

There was always some form of lights, generally tall lamps

And the Coca-Cola cooler that was never used simply loomed in the dark corner cheerfully. 

 

And although of course we would go other places- B and B, Faubian, hell even Walmart, 

Papa and Nana’s house was always the place I loved so dearly. 

The planks of wood I enjoyed a lot of my time,

Where I felt free

In the fresh air 

Outback.

And wasn’t getting yelled at for standing too close to the TV– you could go blind you know.

 

The late nights

My small family gathered throwing thin pieces of paper at each other 

A fierce game of Phase 10-

‘Blinded By the Light” was a favorite.

 

The sunny, deadly hot, blissful summer days 

Eating whole red fruit in the shade with papa

Drizzled in the sweet, sweet taste of table salt.

 

The roaring engine of the green giant we all called ‘the tractor’

The earthy smell of the grass stains, 

And the warm, sweet feeling of water rushing down our backs 

After getting yelled at because of the black, sticky walnut shells that had accumulated on our faces. 

 

Not as bad as the green sticky balls we called ‘brains’ – hedge balls.

Slowly fly down the hill.

 

Watching the sun dance across the rippling water of the cool blue pool

Where Ash was normalized and the little girl I once knew had no clue this would be over soon.

The thick water of happiness that spewed from the little rock fountain.

I have no clue where it went. 

 

One acre is quite small when you’re 5 feet tall. 

I drove by this house the other day.

The backyard doesn’t look nearly as big as I remember.

And the gigantic creek is a small, puny stream. 

 

Saddening. 

On that fateful day I crawled into my mom’s arms sobbing.

My papa passed.

Everything changed. 

My nana no longer owns it. 

 

I’m still not sure how one nearly empty acre can mean so much,

And I hadn’t thought of this is years

But looking back, I truly miss it. 

 

I suppose maybe I’m crying over spilt milk

Maybe, I’m just overthinking my past

To compensate for my unknown future.

After all that was a quick glance at that real estate sign 

 

Now a dorm room.

Canvas on the wall with cheesy quotes

That somehow motivate me–

“Carpe diem” 

“You’re pretty rad”

“Get shit done”

 

Yet, I can’t help to think,

Maybe one day I’ll be watching children prance around the overgrown grass

Of my backyard.

And although that acre may seem small to me, 

It will seem like the whole world to them. 

 

Throwing the bright green, sticky brains into the roaring creek,

Scratching the itchy chiggers off their legs with their small, fragile hands

While red juice pours down the side of their cheeks from the salty tomatoes I once enjoyed

Sitting there, looking out at the large, neverending property…